


Spider-Woman: Blue

by OliviaRose



Category: Spider-Gwen (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Rewrite, Spider-Man: Blue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28800948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliviaRose/pseuds/OliviaRose
Summary: My re-write of Spider-Man: Blue by Jeff Loeb and Tim Sale.It’s about remembering someone who was so important to me I was going to spend the rest of my life with him. I didn’t know that meant he would only get to spend the rest of his life with me.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Gwen Stacy
Kudos: 7





	Spider-Woman: Blue

_ Klik _

_ Whrrr _

Testing… Testing-one-two-three. I hope this thing still works.

_ Klik _

_ Whrrr _

Testing.

Please. Please work.

Good. Ok. Thank god. Where to start?

I’d write this all down, but there’s a reason I’m a drummer and not, well, anything else.

I’ve tried to convince myself that things have to get really, really bad before they can get good. Not even really good, although I wouldn’t mind some of that. When you look at my life so far, that’s about it.

Good enough follows bad.

Kind of spectacular.

It’s Valentine’s day and I don’t have a valentine, but I have you. Or, at least, I wish I did. You used to send me card after card, covered in little notes and doodles. You slipped them into my locker, my bag.

When I asked you why you gave me all of them, you said you had to get my attention somehow.

I wish I had paid more attention to you.

It’s like Ben used to say; “Youth is wasted on the wrong people.”

You’ll never hear this, well, not you. Maybe the other you. He’s the one who said I should do this. But, either way, someone needs to know about you. About us..

Your name was-is Peter Parker. Mine is Gwen Stacy.

This is the story of how we fell in love.

Or, more appropriately, how we almost fell in love.

  
  


So, it’s Valentine’s day, and I’m standing in the middle of a street.

_ The _ street.

I’ve avoided it every other day of the year.

Nobody knows. I can’t make a big deal out of it. 

But now I’m here, standing alone, in the middle of Manhattan pretending the fact that the world keeps moving doesn’t piss me off. But I’m standing here, and they wouldn't understand what it’s about.

It’s about remembering someone who was so important to me I was going to spend the rest of my life with him. I didn’t know that meant he would only get to spend the rest of his life with me.

There is nothing I can do about it. And I have to accept that. But there was something I could’ve done.

But when you lose someone you love, everyone tells you to pick up and move on.

“Don’t dwell on the past.”

“It is what he would want.”

And that makes me laugh. Like I would ever want to forget you.

The way you’d push your glasses up.

The way you drank your soda.

Hello, Peter. My funny valentine.

But, like you know, before anything good could happen, something really, really bad had to happen.

I’m not talking “leaving your final project at home bad,” I’m talking “the police (specifically my dad) have been assigned to find out my secret identity, and prosecute me” bad.

Oh, and something else.

You had started working with Dr. Curt Connors, the only other person who shared your obsession with becoming Spider-Woman. 

I know now that you just wanted to be special. I just wish special didn’t mean following in the footsteps of the NYPD’s most wanted.

If only you’d known what you were looking for lived next door.

If only I’d told you.

I can’t tell you just how many times in those few months I had a gun held on me by someone I knew. Someone I trusted. It was almost the same amount of times I could’ve saved you.

You’d leave after school to work with Dr. Connors, and I should’ve asked you to grab dinner with me. I’d see you get home in the middle of the night, almost as late as I would, and I should’ve invited you over.

Sometimes I look over at your room and wish you were looking back, even now. 

Almost all of my energy was put into running. Hiding. I gave it everything I had and they would not relent.

I could’ve destroyed the serum. I had held it in my hand and contemplated. I’m ashamed to admit that I really, really wanted to. I wanted to flush all of your hard work away. I didn’t want you to be like me. I was miserable.

It could’ve ended right there.

All of my guilt. Gone.

And, maybe, you would still be…

It should have been so easy. Just smash the vial. Keep you busy and away from Conners. By the time you realized…

It doesn’t matter.

Some things haven’t changed, despite everything. I still go to band practice, still dance this dance with MJ. We’ve danced it a hundred times.

Mary Jane Watson. How could you not love her?

You introduced me to her. She was looking for a drummer. She was your aunt’s best friend’s niece.

Sitting with you, watching you watch our band practice. That’s how it all started. We’d make eye contact for just a second, and I’d lose my rhythm. I’d turn, look at you, and you’d already be looking at me, just for a moment. I’d turn into a puddle.

I always knew, no matter what, I’d be able to come to you, sit at your table, talk with your family. Aunt May, always ready to make sense of anything. Heroically, she still does.

I’ve always idolized her relationship with Ben. Perfectly suited for each other. One in a million. I didn’t used to get it, but then you’d smile at me, and I’d understand. You made me brave. Brave enough to spend my nights fighting crime. Brave enough to spend my days by your side.

I always thought people were lying about the way some people’s laughs sound like music. But, right then, you were my favorite song.

Peter Parker.

All sorts of amazing. 

Life didn’t seem like it could get any better. But, you know how this good/bad thing works.


End file.
